


As the light rises

by EclipseBorn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, IT'S JUST FLUFF OKAY LOADS OF FLUFF, Not-so subtle references to the Dread Wolf, Please Review, Tickling, i put it down as mature but there isn't any actual SEX just the implication of it, me? finish a oneshot? what is this world i've entered, reagan's a city elf yo, trash wolf baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseBorn/pseuds/EclipseBorn
Summary: The Inquisitor is known for being loathe to give up her sleep; it's caused many a diplomatic incident.So why hasn't she slept all night?





	

The Inquisitor slept in the highest tower in Skyhold, the eastern balcony windows always letting in the early morning light. Dawn would reach her room long before it touched any other part of the castle, due to the tall mountains that surrounded Skyhold, and it would usually hit her right in the face, waking her up.

_Usually_ being the precise word, here.

This morning, however, Reagan was already awake – in truth, she’d never slept – and the light did little more than allow her to brush away the fog of complacency that had risen over her in the early hours of the day. She ran a hand through her hair, everything feeling quite routine until her fingers encountered _his_. His hand was entangled in her flaming orange bedhead, the other one resting on her hip, and when her eyes finally trailed up his body to rest on his face, Solas’ gaze was focused on the dying embers of the fireplace.

He seemed infinitely old in that moment, violet-blue eyes reflecting the golden flames of the fire mixed in with the bright yellow sunlight in a spectacular array of colours. Half of his face was cast in shadow, the line of his nose a bridge between light and dark. She thought he was beautiful.

“Sovereign for your thoughts,” Reagan whispered, not too loudly – she didn’t want to disrupt the little world that they had created. If it weren’t for dawn slowly breaking over the Frostback Mountains, she could pretend that time had stopped entirely.

And, miraculously, she made him laugh. A deep chuckle, barely even noticeable, before he replied; “They’re not worth _that_ much, vhenan.”

He kept calling her that: all night long, between sighs and moans and oaths, as though she didn’t know what it meant. He’s not forgotten her Alienage upbringing, or her Dalish grandfather who always called her _da'vhenan_ , so that must mean he also wants her to _know_ that he means it. It was far too complicated to contemplate at the arse-crack of dawn, so Reagan poked his side. “Alright, a silver for your thoughts. You’re too clever for a mere copper.”

“Perhaps,” Solas said, still seemingly ageless and aged at the same time. He continued to stare at the fire for a few more moments as something inside him visibly shifted, his shoulders relaxing and a faint smile appearing on his face, before he looked at her. His face was now fully lit up by the sunlight slowly creeping up behind her, yet he was still in the dark. That was the problem with Solas – she’d known him now for a few months, almost a year, and she still didn’t know what he was thinking. He’s an expert at showing only what he _wanted_ to show – like Bull, but with Bull it was obvious why he did so (he was a spy). Reagan could never quite figure out why Solas thought he couldn’t be himself.

“You still haven’t said,” she reminded him softly, smiling despite herself. Their eyes are locked on one another, a tension building. “You aren’t… regretting _not_ visiting the Fade?”

It was a roundabout way of asking if he regretted their night together, because at her heart Reagan’s nothing more than a coward. She held her breath, awaiting his answer, swearing to herself that it didn’t matter, either way.

Reagan never had been a very convincing liar.

“I have spent countless years in the company of spirits,” Solas said, the hand on her hip now trailing up the curves of her body, turning her freckles into constellations with his long fingers. “It harms no one to spend a night in the waking world instead.”

“That’s a nice way of saying ‘no’,” Reagan told him. “But I’ll take it.”

“You’re good at that,” he teased, causing her to swat his chest in response. “It was merely a compliment, vhenan.”

“If only the people of the Inquisition knew that you were smoother than ice,” she said. “Sera’s convinced you’re a virgin.”

“The less Sera knows of our private life, the better,” Solas’ fingers continued mapping out her lower back even as he moved closer to her, nuzzling the side of her head with his nose.

“I can’t say that I-” Reagan let out a quiet giggle when he brushed over a ticklish spot. “ _Disagree_!”

He repeated the gesture; her back arched upwards to escape his devilish fingers, their bodies becoming even more entwined than earlier, which she hadn’t thought possible. His hand raced over the small of her back, nails lightly scratching at the skin, and Reagan had to muffle her laughter in the crook of his neck.

“Stop!” She chuckled, writhing away. “Please!”

“So sensitive,” was all Solas said, now using both of his hands to torture her. “You aren’t like this anywhere else.”

Reagan let out a high-pitched squeal that could’ve been heard by the horses in the stables. “That’s because I’m not _tick_ _l_ ish any _where_ else! Solas-” Her breath was short, and she let out little puffs of air whenever she had the chance to. “Solas, sathan, sathan!”

“Ma nuvenin, vhenan,” Solas finally relented, moving his treacherous hand down to cup her arse. “I want only for your happiness.”

She blew her fringe from her sight, allowing Reagan to send him a dry look. “ _Right_.”

Solas pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Were you not just laughing?”

“That doesn’t _count_ ,” Reagan explained, as he moved his lips downwards, slowly dragging them over her skin. “That was tickling and it wasn’t _fair_.”

He ‘hmmed’ at her words, lips caressing the line of her jaw and the smooth column of her neck. As he did so, he brushed away her hair so he could have a larger area to kiss. The hand Solas had on her arse travelled up, palm spread out across her hip, pushing her down to the bed to he could lean over her. A gasp eased its way from her lungs, blood rushing to the front of her cheeks as she realised that Solas was only continuing to move south on her body, lavishing kisses across the freckled plateau of her collarbones and the valley between her breasts.

“You’ve the energy of the gods,” Reagan muttered, incredulous. “How can you _still_ be up for it?”

“You are here.”

His words caused her cheeks to turn from the cutesy pink that they were into an unmistakable luminous red blush, the tips of her ears changing to match. He _always_ did that – pulled a line from somewhere that would reduce her to a stuttering mess. Solas gently nipped at the side of her breast and she whimpered, scrambling to grab the back of his head. He paused, looking up at her with sparkling eyes. Silence hovered between them, and when Reagan finally responded it was with a melodramatic sigh.

“I _suppose_ I can last another round… though if we make it to _triple_ figures I’m going to start wondering if you’re possessed.”

“Possessed by the urge to become one with you, perhaps.”

“ _Arse_ ,” she emphasised. “Complete and utter, smooth-talking _arse_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this has been on my laptop for AGES and I want to get back into the swing of posting, so...  
> Un-betaed so any mistakes are mine and mine alone, I tried my best to get Solas in-character but he IS a notorious liar so it was a bit difficult.  
> Reagan ISN'T a Lavellan so please don't refer to her as such - she's a City Elf with a rich history that I will be (hopefully) posting about in coming months.  
> My tumblr is Reagans-ramblings (go figure) and you can find me there, along with a few lovely portraits of what Reagan looks like. You can message me if you want a friend to sob hysterically over Solas with.  
> Please, PLEASE review!


End file.
